I'm putting this here for now and not in proper CC because fuck you if you think I'm putting this up there while spoilers are still fucked

#772DAD

CHARACTER

Name: Durian Ghede

Age: 22

Species and Gender: Male Ram Faunus

Symbol:

Occupation: Freelance Hospital Worker/Hunter Drop-Out

Appearance: Standing at 5’9” and weighing 143 lbs., Durian is a somewhat lanky individual. His dark, raven-colored hair is done up in the early stages of twist outs, only reaching a few inches off his head and staying well out of the way of his light, bluish-violet eyes. His faunus origin is up front and in your face with a pair of ivory ram horns that jut up from the back of his skull and curl around, nearly brushing the bottoms of his ears. Having living in Vacuo he's never made any attempt to hide his origin, though when visiting other kingdoms or villages he tends to wear a hood.

His outfit is exceedingly monochromatic and all just a little too baggy for his slight frame. He wears a pair of black boots, black pants, a black short-sleeved undershirt and a large, white, zip-up hoodie with three black lines circling the right arm and black drawstrings. He tends to only wear the hoodie when he's out of Vacuo but will even wear it there if he's had a particularly bad day.

While he bears no special markings or blemishes, the white of the hoodie has a faint, light brown tint from its short time being worn in Vacuo.

History:[spoilers=Pre-Shade]Born in the harsh wastes of the Vacuan desert, Durian was brought into the world needing to constantly adapt and overcome his surroundings. Even within the relative comfort of his shanty town, danger was always around the corner. Would the oasis they surrounded run dry? Would a sandstorm wipe away the hurriedly built structures? Grimm? Bandits? His parents did little to dissuade his fears with his father dying before he was born and his mother having gone missing in the desert when he was only a toddler, forcing him to be raised by his grandmother. She did her best to raise a child she never asked to be handed, teaching Durian and letting him learn to fight with some of the village’s “hunters”.

They were by no means true hunters, not someone who could hunt the likes of Grimm, they were simply people who knew how to fight and defend themselves and their village. From time to time that included Grimm, yes, but they were far from specialized in the field. They taught Durian how to survive, despite his natural clumsiness in a fight. It was apparent from a young age that, while not skilled in combat, he was skilled in tactics. He stayed there, learning from the hunters when he wasn’t out with the rest of his village gathering supplies, learning lessons with the other children, or simply surviving.

Of course, in a world like this, a village in the desert being swept away by the sand is all too common. The attack came quickly and was over in a flash. The bandits came bearing superior weapons and abilities, killed everyone who fought back, and stole away with those who didn’t. Durian’s grandmother ordered him to hide under his bed and the bandits, not caring or not noticing him, went on sacking the village for anything worth their time- food, water, valuables, ammunition. Anything that could be taken and sold or used was. Durian was 16 at the time and unlike many would be hunters would have found their lives cut short at the blade of a bandit, he did what he was ordered.

He hid under his bed, cowering with his hands covering his mouth and his back to the wall as he could hear hear his friends and family being killed, his grandmother being struck down from trying to defend the home she’d raised her daughter in, the home she’d raised her grandson in. He could feel something inside of him wrench around with each short yell that cut through the utter quiet of a desert night and he continued to hide. He hid as they stormed into his house and stole away with his things, he hid as he could hear them laughing around a small fire outside, he hid as the moon fell and the sun rose and he hid until he could bear the hunger and thirst no more.

Cautious and afraid, Durian slid his way out from under the bed, only to be met with a session of dry heaving as he saw his deceased grandmother, the person who’d raised him in his parent’s absence. He avoided looking at her and made his way outside into the harsh sun, trying his best to tiptoe around the corpses that littered his home. He made his way to the small oasis and collapsed into the water, staying there for a moment too long and contemplating never leaving before bursting out and inhaling a deep, shuttered breath. He drank the water and at the scarce fruit too ripe for the bandits to bother taking as he both tried to think about his situation in order to come up with a plan and avoid thinking what was just behind him entirely.

Eventually, the small amount of resolve within him won over and he made his way back to the village, crudely covering the dead in sand and praying for the gods to be good to them in the next life like his grandmother taught him.

He stayed there in the village for several days, drinking the water of the oasis and eating the bitter ripe fruit. What choice did he have? He couldn’t just brave the desert, that was just as useful as staying under the water. The Vacuan desert was enormous, teeming with Grimm, bandits, and other hostile wildlife. There wasn’t any food, barely any water, no markers to show he was going the right direction. As far as he knew, he would just stay until the food ran out and then… well, he didn't want to think about what would come after. The choice to stay or go was forced on him on the third day.

On the horizon, as he was gathering the last of the fruit, he saw an enormous, shifting cloud of pitch black. It was something he’d heard about only in whispers and warning around the tribe, The Shiru. A monsterous grimm that stopped at nothing to destroy settlements, bringing with it a horde of other grimm to kill any who try to escape. There was a one, and only one, plan if that thing ever made its way toward the village. Everyone packs up and begins moving in the exact opposite direction, so that’s what Durian did. He collected the handful of fruit that was left, he found a small container for water, and he began to book it across the desert.

In some ways, The Shiru saved him. Had he left a day earlier or later, even an hour, he wouldn’t have had the good fortune to run into a small caravan of traders making their way back to Vacuo from another village. Had he not caught them, he wouldn’t have been able to do the only thing he knew he could do when he arrived in Vacuo, take Shade’s entrance exam. He’d never met a hunter in his life, never knew their lifestyle, but he’d heard tales and that was enough. They were strong, they were superhuman in their own right, they could be hit by a train and get back up again. They would be strong enough to fight back against the bandits. The Grimm were a problem, of course, but they were far from the primary problem in Durian’s mind.

By all rights, Durian’s tactical mind was the sole savior when he took the exam. His combat skills were mediocre at best and even though his grandmother gave him lessons with the other village kids, it was far from a formal education. The examiner told him that if not for his ability to work through and organize some of the tougher questions he would have had no chance of getting in.[/spoiler]

He did get in though, and thanks to his mind, he was made team leader of Team DFDL along with his partner Flora and his two teammates Dalia and Loquat. The team quickly bonded over their initiation with each of them being very open to Durian’s plans and suggestions but he was especially taken by Flora. There was something about her pearlescent skin, her blonde hair, her seafoam-green eyes, her voice, her her that made him feel something he hadn’t before. It wasn’t something he understood or knew, in the village there wasn’t anything like dating, there weren’t couples, there were only those who were life partners and those who weren’t. He didn’t know how to talk about that, especially not to her! So he didn’t.

Durian kept quiet about his feelings for his partner and admired from just outside of the frame, watching as she grew and won her fights and survived the school. He was… content like that. He wanted more but he was happy as he was just getting to watch someone who would become his best friend succeed over and over again.

Death is more than common in the world of hunters and huntresses and that seemed especially true for Durian. It was their first solo mission, no hunter shadowing them and no hunter to shadow. The task was simple, go and defend a village for a night, there wasn’t even a promised threat there had only been sightings of a grimm horde in the distance. Flora and Loquat were both close range fighters while Dalia was a long range fighter so the plan was simple. Durian, Flora, and Loquat would patrol the perimeter while Dalia took up position on top of one of the buildings to provide a bird’s eye view, Durian would travel with Loquat on one end while Flora would Trac one on the other as she was a far more accomplished fighter than either of them.

There wasn’t any cry of help or assistance that brought Durian and Loquat running to the opposite side of the village, only a single shot that rang out in the quiet desert night. As Durian ran, he looked up and saw Dalia’s rifle trained toward where Flora was supposed to be patrolling and as he rounded the corner with his breath in his throat, he saw her. Alive. At her feet was the body of a larger man with a single bullet hole in his skull. Durian let out the sigh he’d been holding but before he could even thank the gods another shot rang out, this time from the darkness of the night and eliciting a scream of pain from Dalia. As all three of the students whipped their heads up and around toward their teammate, there was another sound. A shorter one.

A gasp of breath cut short as if hitting a wall followed by a wet cough and groan. Durian whipped his head around and saw a spear jutting out of Flora’s stomach, piercing her aura. The next few moments were a blur and even if durian wanted to recall the events, he would be hard pressed to do so. There was fighting, screams, gunshots, yells for help. In the end, they somehow fought off the bandits. They left several dead or dying at their feet but by the time they were safe…

Durian looked down at the lifeless body of his teammate, his partner, the person he loved and something inside of him snapped. He didn't cry out, he didn't sob, he only collapsed down to the ground and began to lose his breath. He tried to take in air but nothing came, he gripped his chest as he felt an anchor of weight appear in his chest and he dug his hands into the sand. In the midst of his frantic breathing, he could feel it, feel them. Inside of him. He clenched his palms as a forced racked through his body and as he looked up to the sound of Loquat gasping, he saw her. He could see through her to the dark sand dunes beyond and she looked down at him, expressionless, with bright blue eyes that stood out against the light tan of the rest of her visage but he could tell it was her.

His grandmother stood there, not moving, not speaking, only looking at him with those unblinking eyes. Her form whisped and wavered in the desert wind but didn't disappear. He was a speechless as he stood up and collapsed into her, wrapping his arms around her and finally starting to let out his tears. She only stood there, unmoving. In that moment, something else clicked inside Durian and he could see them, each and every one of them.

Dozens of them, his fellow villagers, the bandits that laid dead at his feet, Flora. He could see part of them all inside of himself. In a moment of panic and confusion he laid down his hands onto Flora-- maybe if he could return it to her, maybe if he could could bring her back then this would all--

The form of his grandmother faded away and began to grow into place around Flora's body. The shimmering form of his grandmother, now fully in her own color, looked up to him and smiled. She wrapped her arms around him and let him scream into her, letting everything that had built since her final night out into the night air.

Eventually, morning came and the sandcrawler came to pick up the team. Durian was silent the entire way back even in the face of attempted comfort from Dalia and Loquat. He was silent as it dropped them off at Shade and he was silent as they all went to bed. In the morning, he told then he was staying in from classes today and to go without him. Once they were gone, he packed his things, collected his money, and he booked the first airship ticket to Vale.

Durian never went back to Vacuo, never tried to get into contact with his former teammates and never answered their messages on his scroll. He found a cheap hotel in Vale and he stayed there for a week, trying to work through everything that was going on inside him, his semblance, what he could do. It was obvious now that the hunter's life was not what he wanted to needed. He'd heard stories from other students when he'd entered about death and loss but he never thought… What he needed now was to figure out what was for him. He thought about how crushed he'd felt to lose flora without even getting to say goodbye, how happy he'd been to see and talk with his grandmother again, how he could still feel dozens of… souls inside of him. Fragments. How he couldn't feel his grandmother anymore.

He began testing in his hotel room with the expendable ones, the scum, the bandits. He created shade after shade after shade and tested what he could do with them but no matter what, he couldn't replicate what he'd done with his Grandmother. They all stayed that light tannish color with glowing eyes. There was only one thing he could do, one idea that might be able to help him get set back on the right track.

Vale was home to Beacon Academy, the largest and most accomplished Huntsman academy in the world, surely someone there would be able to help him make sense of it all. So he set out for the academy, quickly learning that Vale had a much different view on faunus than Vacuo. He heard whispers of “freak”, “monster”, “devil” and as much as he wanted to, could he even argue? If he really had souls of the dead inside of him wasn't he keeping them from moving on? Wasn't he a monster? Someone stuck their leg out as he was walking with a crowd of people and he fell down into the hard concrete, scraping his hands as he tried to catch himself.

When he finally arrived at Beacon, he had a new, large hoodie on with the hood fully covering his head and obscuring his horns. He found a professor and explained his situation but because he wasn't a student they couldn't help him in an official capacity. They told him to try to go to the hospital, that his semblance sounded like he might be able to temporarily revive the dead, that it might be useful for grieving families.

Durian did as he was told just like when he was a kid and as he worked with the hospitals, he slowly began to understand what his semblance was. Over the next three years, he built a rapport with the hospitals around Vale and even made trips out to the smaller to assist there. He began to expend the shades at his disposal one by one until all that was left was Flora. Sweet, beautiful Flora. He'd never tried to delve into her soul, he was too afraid of what the answer might be and now, in a moment where he could lt himself be free of the burden and guilt, he was too afraid of what letting go would mean. He kept her, selfishly. Her fragment is still there today, he's never tried to use her once, he couldn't dream of it. The longer he held her, the more the guilt grew and the more the guilt grew the harder it was to bring himself to let her go. The harder it was to let her go, the longer he held her.

Now Durian lives in a small studio apartment in the residential district of Vale. He keeps to himself, trying to hide his faunus features and go unnoticed most of the time he's not working at the hospital. He doesn't prefer the stagnation but it's the only thing he can think to do.

Personality: Before unlocking his semblance, Durian was a kind and thoughtful kid, if a bit socially lacking. After unlocking his semblance he very much drew into himself. It is not uncommon for him to have intrusive thoughts of him being around powerful people as they die and using them to gain more power, ideas that that if he played his cards right he could be unstoppable. He hates this, hates everything about this, and because of it he is of two minds about himself and his semblance.

On one hand, he feels immensely happy that he's able to give people one last talk with people they love, to let them get everything out that they can. It's almost cathartic for him to let others get their final words when he couldn't have the same with his mother and father and to let them live on without as many regrets.

On the other hand, he feels guilty when he helps people like this and he hates that he feels guilty and hates that he hates it. It's a vicious cycle of resenting others for getting the closure he never got and being angry with himself because he can't just not help them.

It's a cocktail of emotions that lay just below the surface, from the outside he tries his best to stay stone faced as people break down into tears or yell and scream or give their final goodbyes to his shades.

At the same time, separate from the actual act of helping, he hates that his semblance is what it is. It can help others, of course, but it's clearly not meant to. With every shade that he has, he understands how they fight and how well they fight, what their semblance was exactly and how to use it. Every time he “captures” someone, he knows exactly how useful they would be in a fight. He knows he could be great and powerful if he was still a hunter and that's why he left. It would be far too easy in a job like that, surrounded by death, to bend toward the corrupted side. He hates the idea of what he's capable of and yet almost every day he has intrusive thoughts telling him to go through with it.

All that said, Durian is not one to ignore, put away, or deflect his problems or shortcomings, perceived or otherwise. His problem is born from indecisiveness. While he is able to look at his problems and work through them in his head and can see both sides of the problem, he very rarely can come to a conclusion. This permeates through almost his entire life, save for combat planning where he feels almost at home.

Durian is far from a social person. While he'll be willing and able to make conversation if he's prompted or interested, he generally won't seek out conversation. He much prefers to keep to himself and his own thoughts. Even though he may not like keeping to himself, he at least knows and understands his own thoughts.

This antisocial behavior extends to most of his life. He doesn't make friends easily and the friends he made at Shade came about purely through continuous and forced interaction through teams or classes, not that he didn't enjoy having friends. He has work acquaintances at the hospital, but he doesn't interact with them outside of work. In fact, most of his time outside of work is spent in his small apartment or out buying groceries.

The rare times that he's actually convinced to go out with his coworkers for a night, it usually takes a good couple of drinks before he can loosen up enough to actually enjoy their company and talk freely. Unsurprisingly, much of the talk turns back toward him having his aura unlocked and having a semblance but by that point he's usually loosened up enough to feel comfortable shutting it down. When he can, he likes to turn it back onto them and hear how they actually did that day and hear how they helped people. After all, despite working in a hospital, he's not actually a registered nurse or doctor.

Despite getting two years into becoming a Hunter himself, Durian has come to see the academies in another light. Not for what they do or what they stand for but because of how young hunters are when they get sent into fight Grimm. He has no problem or issue with the actual idea of hunters, he understands the necessity, but he fervently disagrees with what he views as child soldiers, especially in Atlas’ case.

His move from Vacuo to Vale brought with it many noticeable changes, least of which isn't racism and the white fang. He hates the white fang, always has since he learned about them in Vacuo. He hates that they've resorted to violence in response to hate. After moving to Vale, though, he can understand how they may have come to that answer. He still doesn't agree with or approve of the white fang but now that he's had to deal with daily life in Vale, one of the more tolerant kingdoms, he can at least understand them.

Aura and Semblance: Durian's aura is a swirling tan-brown, though when he has other auras within him from his semblance it takes has flecks and small swirls of other colors. While his aura was unlocked at Signal, his semblance was partially unlocked before that due to its semi-passive nature. While the ability to absorb unlocked during his grandmother's death, the ability to project unlocked at his teammate’s death.

Psychopomp[Semi-Passive]

Durian is able to create solid shades, or aura constructs, of those that pass away in his presence. He passively absorbs and stores a small amount of the deceased's aura as they pass and use it with some of his own aura, to create shades. These shades appear as vaguely translucent versions of what the target looked like as they died, including clothing and injuries though they don't have their own original colored clothing or skin tone, all color is replaced by varying shades of Durian's light brown aura color.

These shades have two “forms” and which form is sent out depends on how much Durian focuses.

The standard shade will appear as above but will only be able to be given rough mental commands such as “attack” or “defend”. The actual words aren't as important as the idea behind them. Durian can expend up to 10 shades at once while still being able to move around and act normally while these shades are being used, any more and he has to stand still. However, each Shade has one lifetime use unless not used for a month. With each month it goes without being used, it gains an additional use. This means if Durian has a shade and doesn't use it for 3 months and then uses it, he has 2 uses left. If a shade goes unused, he could theoretically store one forever.

These shades can exist up to an hour before being forcefully canceled, but they get 10% weaker every 6 minutes.

The second form requires Durian to stay still, only being able to move his head to look around or talk. These shades are opaque and appear just like they did in life, any injuries that lead to their death healed. They can receive much more complex commands but even beyond that, they appear to have the same personality, voice, and mannerisms as the original deceased did in life as well as a similar aura pool, though durian can alter the personality and force them to say what he wants them to if he wants.

To create the second form of the shades, in addition to standing still, Durian needs to use a chunk of flesh, approximately the mass of a baby pig, that has been sufficiently soaked in a living being's aura. In other words, Durian needs live flesh or very recently removed flesh of a human, faunus, or animal. Durian can then use this flesh as a "base" to for the shade so that it can form around it using the deceased's, Durian's, and the remnants of the flesh's aura to bind the process.

Once used in this form, despite how many months have passed, the user will no longer be able to use the shade. However, the shade will have a comparable aura defense as they did in life. These shades will never fade out when used, they only go away when Durian manually cancels them.

While all shades appear with the weapons they most commonly used in life, if any, only the second form shades can use a watered down version of their semblances.

As a secondary effect of the semblance, Durian has an intuitive understanding of the combat abilities and semblances of those he absorbs and he can turn his attention inward to "observe" the pieces of aura that he's absorbed and can try to understand what kind of person they were.

Appearance: Flora had bright blonde hair that fades into pink highlights at the tips and seafoam-green eyes. She was slightly plump with a round face but that never hampered her combat prowess. At her time of death, she was wearing a fairly simple outfit with a red, short sleeved crop top, a pair of dark navy jeans, combat boots, and lightly colored poncho over it all with crossing floral designs.

Background: Flora was Durian's teammate who had died during their first solo mission.

Personality: Flora was a mostly upbeat person, always trying to spur on her teammates for laughs. Her happy face was a mask she wore to cover up some repressed events from her childhood in Vale but Durian hasn't looked into the fragment enough to know what happened and why.

Aura and Semblance: Flora had a strong and red aura and it wasn't known where she unlocked it or her semblance.

Her semblance is the ability to create an illusory clone of herself and control it. She can either control it directly or set it to tasks, either vague or specific, and doesn't need to be distracted from what she's doing. The clone makes no sound and is not physical in any way. If Flora is attacked, the moment before the hit connects with her aura she and the clone reactively swap places, when this happens the clone takes the hit and disappears. If the clone is attacked, Flora will reactively teleport to its space and the clone with explode in a soft force, shunting anything (such as a sword) that would be in Flora's space out of the way before she teleport in.

Combat Behavior: Flora was a strong frontline fighter and relies heavily on the tried and true “hit it hard until it stops moving” method. She was efficient as using her semblance to disorientate her opponent. She has no real answer to a ranged opponent and would often leave that fight for her teammates.

WEAPON

Name: Celice

Primary Form: Celice is a large Warhammer in its primary form. 4'6” long on total and consisting of a wooden grip and shaft with swirling silver workings throughout it, ending in the silver head. The hammer side is a fairly standard hammer with the exception of a gun barrel being worked into it while the spiked side is much thick and curved downward.

When the hammer side connects with something with enough force, it will force out a shotgun blast from the head into the target. The ammo can be loaded from the shaft of the warhammer.

Secondary Form: With the flick of a switch, Celice's spiked end extends out and down into a 2’ long scythe blade.

Dust Functions: The warhammer can be loaded with different forms of dust for additional effects such as an ice or fire blast.

Shade Uses Available: 29 First Level/ 1 Second Level

[/spoiler]

At any given time during Durian's work day, he may have a number of other shades stocked up from patients who have passed in the hospital. These shades are generally not notable and are only basic mundane people.

While not wrong, Durian doesn’t understand the full grasp of his semblance, either by willful ignorance by viewing it as keeping souls from entering an afterlife or just by him truly not understanding the more varied use for the semblance.The semblance, at its core, is the ability to absorb, store, and redirect aura of something that is dying and beyond all possible saving. If, theoretically, someone died, had part of their aura absorbed, then was somehow brought back to life with some revival semblance or something, they would come back missing a chunk of their aura.

Of course, aura cannot survive in a vacuum, it’s the manifestation of a soul and without the soul, there is no manifestation. That said, Durian’s semblance take a chunk of the soul in order to sustain the aura within him. Durian cannot communicate with any soul fragment that’s stored in him but he can “read” it, as stated above. However, these are foreign souls residing in a foreign body. It won’t be immediate, Durian would never notice, and even those outside observers who do wouldn’t think anything supernatural of it but over time these souls tend to have a bleeding effect with Durian’s.

For the easiest example, if he were to go on a murder rampage and take over the world by killing good guys and storing them within himself for future use, he would start to take on traits of the good guys. He’d start to regret what he’d done and see the error of his ways. Similarly, if he went on a crusade against villainy and scum, he would slowly become more and more brutal, more cutthroat, more villainous as he continued. He’d start to think maybe being the good guy isn’t for him. Again, these are extremely slow changes similar to how someone would naturally progress their personality through life and would be indistinguishable from the outside from a normal personality change and the examples are extremely broad strokes.

From a practical standpoint, there is no limit to how many souls or aura fragments Durian can store within him, though the more he has, the more they influence him. If his soul is 100% of something and each fragment is only 1% then by ten people he’ll already have a tenth of himself being influenced by the other souls. Now, of course, the souls will never be in total agreement, they won’t be one mass that has a directive, they were all their own person in life after all. The changes would be small, sometimes contradictory, but always with a cause. Of course, this isn’t a one way street. The longer a fragment is within him, the less it’s like itself and the more it’s like Durian or the cavalcade of other fragments in him to the point where when it’s finally summoned out it might not act anything like the original person if it’s kept long enough.

With the actual application of the semblance, he currently uses aura-soaked flesh as what is essentially a temporary phylactery to hold the fragment of soul in order to properly manifest the aura. This is a fine application and actually more useful than the “intended” use in some ways. Since it requires aura soaked flesh to be the basis of the shade, there is nothing stopping Durian from using his own or someone else’s living body and essentially overlaying a shade on top of him, or only a part of one such as an arm, in order to use extra protection while still having access to the watered down semblance.

In order for him to do that, though, he needs significantly more practice with his semblance. Overlaying a patchwork of shades in only parts over his body means being able to maintain multiple second-level shades and still be able to move. Even now if he tried it, he’d have to overlay a single shade and, since he can’t move, essentially puppeteer his own body by moving the shade.

The actual means by which Durian snatches onto a departing soul is by way of invisible, intangible tendrils. For every person in Durian's 10 meter range, there is a single tendril that connects him to them. The tendril is constantly feeding Durian with information on their vitals so that his semblance knows when exactly to snatch part of the soul but durian isn't consciously aware of any of the information. At most, he might have a gut feeling that someone is closer to death than someone else. They cannot be seen by any means outside of a specialized semblance and they cannot be cut or interacted with. They can pass through solid objects and even aura barriers.

Combat Behavior: Durian is by no means a front line fighter. In a one on one confrontation against anyone stronger than a single Beowolf he will undoubtedly lose. He in terms of defense, he's no tank. Below average at best and a runt at worst, he tries his best not to get hit by dodging out of the way but even that, after years of inaction, has been made largely ineffective.

His strength comes from his ability to plan and use others in combat. If he has a group of other people he's in charge of, he has a knack of being able to understand what they can do and how they work. Similarly, this extends to opponents. He can quickly determine, with some room for error, how the opponent fights, what their semblance might be, how they might be beaten back.

While entirely unable to fight well on his own, he can send others in how he wants and, if it goes according to plan, his team will often leave successful.

This is, of course, an incredibly useful skill to have in tandem with his semblance. Having complete control over a legion of shades that he can expend while still avoiding the fight would be a strategist’s wet dream if he actually wanted to use it.

He doesn't, though. He doesn't have anyone to tell what to do in a fight either. In these hypothetical scenarios, he could be formidable to mankind and Grimm but as he is now, he only wants to avoid that.

+ Excellent mind for strategy and using other’s strength to their fullest

WEAPON

Name: Scalpel

Primary Form: Scalpel is a foot long Dagger. It's 12 inches long, tip to tip, and the blade is 7 inches long. The weapon itself is very minimalistic for a hunter’s weapon, much of the handle is a silvery metal with polished wooden grips on either side and a small trigger near where his forefinger would be. The blade is similarly a very standard metallic blade, though there is a very fine gap where the edge of the blade would be. With the trigger held down, the actual edge emerges from the slot, it can be coated with any kind of dust, though most often it is loaded with a combination of electric and a very fine amount of ice dust to cause a very short taser effect.

History: While originally having no name when he built it in Oasis, it was named Scalpel after the end of his first year at Shade. Since his leaving the school, it has been left mostly unused but always hanging from his hip in its sheath.

Titania leaned back into her chair, slipping into the unnaturally comfortable rock as Juno readied himself. She had noted the lack of the shimmering blue companion he usually had-- Phi, as Malina had called her. Her existence was... curious to say the least. She had worked with students that utilized adaptive combat AI assistants before, even on that was able to record the movements and mannerisms of enemies to predict attacks, but they had all been dumb AI. If Malina were to be believed, this was something more, something quite interesting from the bowels of Atlas. She was hoping to see her in action more closely today but that could wait if it needed. For now, she needed to study her clay before she could figure out the final shape.

As she watched him launch forward, she fell into her element. There was little thought in his attack, or so it appeared. Malina was guarded from both sides-- her tail on her left and the staff on the right. Was it a ploy to simply see how she would fight back? Yes, that seemed right.

And yet he chose to attack her more guarded side. Her tail was metal and spined, not to mention she still had her right hand on the clasp of her satchel. And... There it was.

The tail lashed out toward the blade and to the untrained observer, one would be excused for thinking the tail slammed against the sword so hard it sent the boy stumbling backward. But Titania knew better.

She knew Malina, and she knew that bass-y crack. She knew that mere centimeters from can't contact, Malina had launched a blast of energy against only the sword.

Titania couldn't help but smile at the act, that spreading of disinformation was one of the first things she taught the girl. She was made for the psychological side of the fight, had the mind for it and certainly had the behavior for it, but Juno? It was still early to tell.

Twin streams of brown dust flowed from beneath Titanias's heavy robes and coalesced beneath her before forming into a rocky seat perfectly curved to the contours of her body. "I expect at least one hit, Juno." She began as she took her seat. "And, Malina, I don't think I have to say what I expect from you." She said as she eyed the girl closely. She had taken a relaxed pose, standing with the wooden staff in her right hand, one end pressed against the earth, and her tail wrapped around to left side so that the tip was already guarding her stomach and chest. Her left hand was already brushed against the clasp of her satchel, ready to unsnap it at any time and reach inside. The stoney expression hadn't cracked but she did notice that the girl stole a glance at Juno's sword. Titania didn't miss her grip tightening around the staff. "You may start whenever you want."

Titania only gave a soft smile as she watched her student lock eyes with her former student and nodded in Juno's direction. "Thank you for making time, Juno, I know an extra session can be taxing on an already tight schedule." With that pleasantry out of the way, she moved onto the matter at hand. "You've made it into tournament twice now and making it to the semi-finals once is very impressive on its own, let alone..." She let the thought hang. "It's clear you have potential to be a great hunter," She shot a quick smile toward a Malina that hadn't yet looked back to her, "much like Malina here. That said, you're still rough around the edges, like a mined stone that still needs to be shined and cleaned before it's worth anything."

Titania nodded to the field of dirt and dust. "Today you'll be facing off against Malina in a sparring match- now I know that facing off a full huntress on your own is essentially suicide." She followed quickly before her student could make any remark. "But this isn't a standard sparring match. For Malina's part, she only has that standard sparring staff, her tail, and her semblance. All she'll be doing is defending and trying to avoid your attacks. All you have to do is land as many hits as you can before I call the match."

With the explanation finished, Malina silently stood from her seated position and dug the tip of her tail from the dirt before making her way to one end of the field. Titania watched her go, only briefly, before turning back to Juno. "Any questions?"

The smell of sweat, dirt and dust was the best way Titania could describe Beacons training and sparring grounds. They were a set of six fields, each a simple expanse of dry dirt, with simple markings on the ground indicating starting positions and the halfway point. She was sure the field would be nothing but a litter of craters in the ground by now if not for the help of Kirkka. She wasn't a fan of the fields herself, much preferring the clean, sleek, indoor arena where she taught her combat classes, but she saw the draw of them. They made it all feel more real.

The feeling of the shifting dirt beneath boots and the taste of kicked up dust in the air brought all of a hunter's senses to the foreground, grounding them in reality and forcing them to pay attention. In truth, she did miss the days when she went out on missions, the days when she could experience that adrenaline rush freely, but she was older now, too old to be going out on hunting missions. Her place was as a guide for the next generation.

She shifted her head slightly to look at Malina, who stood several feet away and who had coiled their tail into something of chair, using it and the simple wooden staff she was holding to lean against. A small smile tugged at Titania's lips as she thought back to her own trainings with the girl and how content she was with how she was turning out.

Not everyone felt the same, of course. After her recent stunt trying to teach children about aura mastery, the infirmary had two cases of severe migraines and one case of a student nearly going comatose. The council, of course, tried to have her removed. Some of the other teachers agreed. If not for Titania's close relationship with Alban, she was sure Malina would have been fired and possibly charged but she thankfully avoided that.

Now she needed to take time off of her own schedule to help show that Malina was capable of properly handling and teaching students, even if she wasn't fond of them. It was frustrating, yes, but Titania had been known to pull several all nighters to complete a project back in her Beacon days, this wasn't so different.

To that end, they were here. All Malina knew was that it was going to be a training exercise. All she was waiting for was her opponent to arrive.

Malina narrowed her eyes further toward Prism as her mouth curled slightly into a frown. "First of all, from what I've heard and read, there's no increase in power but there is an increase in how much, how far, and how long you can use it. Increasing the power of your semblance can only be done one way, training it like a muscle. Second of all, there are theories that one could take the abstract fractal shape and mold it into a three-dimensional, spherical fractal. That said, I haven't found any records of it being accomplished."

"As for your second question," Malina leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk, resting her chin on her folded hands, "The best and only method for starting the process is to find, and be under the supervision of, someone who has already mastered their aura. There are a few... catches... that I failed to mention. I think it's best for everyone to at least have this information, even if they can't act on it. It's important and useful for the study of aura and semblances. That said, had I gone over the dangers at the start, I'm sure some would have tuned out. So let's start over from the beginning."

"If everyone in this class attempts the first stage of this process, approximately 85% of you will die."

"There are two restrictions that keep this process from being widespread, if there weren't then there would be no reason for it to not be taught worldwide. The first restriction is that the person attempting this must be naturally talented with their aura control, the second is unknown. There are plenty of theories about what it is but we know for a fact that not every naturally talented aura user can accomplish this process. The theory I subscribe to ties back to the metaphor of the aura being your body and your semblance being your mind. If you have a naturally gifted body but lack intelligence, you won't be able to complete the process. If you have a genius intellect but lack the proper body, you will not be able to complete the process. That is, you must have the proper aura talent and a compatible semblance to even think about accomplishing this. So what would a proper semblance be? Well, this is all about aura, increasing aura, molding aura, being talented with aura. It makes sense, then, that the semblance must be very closely tied to aura. Take my semblance, I can propel my aura outward in a quick, concussive burst in any direction. That's something someone with enough aura and enough talent could do on their own, maybe with a bit less force and maybe with a bit less range, but it can be done nonetheless. I am of the opinion that in order to complete this, you must have a semblance that is, or is closely tied to, something one could already do with their aura. Without both of these things, attempting to start this process will only permanently damage your aura or worse."

"Like I said earlier, the only way to start this is under the supervision of a master. I had started the process without one and I'm incredibly lucky to not face any negative repercussions other than it taking longer for me to be able to finish the first stage. That said, there was another girl who had been intending to train under Professor Neelabadri and did the same thing I did. She isn't able to use her aura defensively anymore."

"When trying to break away part of yourself to make room for more aura without knowing exactly how and having someone supervising, it far too easy to mistakenly cause permanent damage to your body, mind, aura, semblance, or soul. Additionally, when breaking away part of your soul, your semblance is much less effective during the eight hours that you have additional aura. You don't get to remove part of yourself and gain more defense by just giving up some part of yourself."

"If any of you plan on trying this, think about if its worth it. If you have even the faintest hint of doubt, give up."

Those who joined the site, if there are any, this applies to you. RoosterTeeth properties only, no sexual content or graphic violence. You don't need to worry about writing canon or what-if on your submissions, that's users only but you do need to specify opt-in or opt-out.

MEMBERS

People who actually have characters, this applies to you. I don't have to tell you no sexual content or graphic violence, you should know. If your submission is canon, proceed as usual, if it is what-if, this seems like a good time to remind you that the rules generally don't apply in that kind of response. Canon characters are all fine for what-ifs as well as whatever else you want as long as it's RT property only and doesn't violate what I've already said. I'm addition, this is a reminder that no matter what, canon or what-if, you are required to have permission of the creator before using another's character in your story at any capacity.

GENERAL

The prompt is a general prompt, just write about what comes to mind.

No word count minimum or maximum.

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while not being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

Voting for the winner will begin shortly after the beginning of October as a one week grace period will be allowed for anyone close to finishing who hasn't by the end of month.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself and giving tribute to Monty with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

Just because you have a month to write doesn't mean you should spend the entire time writing new content. A short, well crafted story can mean much more than a long, poorly crafted one. Once you have what you like, spend the rest of the time editing and shining it up.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing responses can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

In addition, this thread will be locked until the last week of September in order to encourage putting more time into refining the submission.

You must note either "Opt-in" or "Opt-out". If you opt-in, your submission will be added to the compiled stories to send to RT. if you wish, you may write it under your own name or user name or reddit name so that roosterteeth knows who wrote it.

Also also, all who opt-in have the option to send me a scan or whatever of your signature to add to a page of signatures at the end of the binder.

The prompt is

Keep moving forward.

I'm sure many will want to do a “talking to a gravestone” scene but we as the staff caution against this, though we don't ban it as a response. It is a very easy and apt scene to deal with the prompt, and that's not a bad thing. That said, it's what Roosterteeth themselves did as tribute on the first episode of V3, they will very likely not enjoy reading the same scene 80 times especially when they did it themselves. We suggest thinking of new, different ideas to address the prompt. A new, fresh perspective is much more likely to be interesting and be eye catching, after all.

This is what the prompt should look like

TitleUsername/NameOpt-in/Opt-outCanon/What-if (members only)

[Prompt]

9/20/18 Submission due date has been pushed back indefinitely until the board is sufficiently secure for the additional guest traffic. New date will be announced when things are ready.

Happy Anniversary, RWBY RPG! It's that time of year again already, and you might be wondering why I'm posting today instead of on our actual anniversary, huh? I'll get to that, I promise, I have some info to run through first but it's definitely for sure not because I'm embarrassed to have our anniversary on 9/11.

As we finish out our fifth year on the site, enter our sixth year, and move toward the sixth season of RWBY, there's some stuff that I've personally been thinking about in regards to not just the site but the show and fandom as a whole. Over three years ago, we lost the dedicated and inspiring man who was behind the entire existence of all three of those things, without whom we wouldn't have ever been here. It has been said many times and I'm sure I don't need to say it, but Monty was truly someone to look up to, his work ethic was bar none, he was able to do what he truly loved, and he inspired people to improve their creative skills. If you've been on this site since the beginning, if you've even been here for just a year, or if you've been anywhere in the Fandom where you're creating works of art whether it be drawn, written, or otherwise you can't deny that Monty changed your life. Perhaps you were already a published author, perhaps you never wrote a story or character in your life, perhaps you had your art win contests, perhaps you could only draw stick figures. No matter the starting point, I firmly believe that everyone is better off for having Monty in the world as he helped countless people strive to improve.

I genuinely believe that there isn't a single person, at the very least on this site, whose writing or art skills haven't improved from a year ago, even if only by a little bit. Had Monty not brought us together, I know at the very least I would still be writing like I was 6 years ago when I first joined the site.

You'd be hard pressed to find anyone in or out of the community that can't look up to Monty in at least one aspect, his works and ethic were undeniable.

When we lost him, many were skeptical about Miles and Kerry taking over and whether you like or dislike how they've handled the show, it is impossible to deny that if they hadn't continued the work of their friend 3 years ago, we wouldn't be here today. The community would have burnt out and faded away. Because they carried on for Monty, because they put in the effort to not let his project die, we're still here, we're still writing and drawing and making works of art, we're still improving. Myself and the other members of the staff believe that this is an excellent time to thank the cast and crew of RWBY and pay tribute to Monyreak “Monty” Oum.

With that said, you get half the anniversary present/tribute now and half on the 11th. Once the 11th rolls around we'll be getting a shiny new revamped logo for the site, showcasing some of the more we'll known characters of our own making on the RPG side and a revamped version of the original logo on the main side. you may have noticed a change already. Our old site logo has been revamped and replaced. While some of you have seen me work on the logo in the discord, for those who haven't seen it, the characters are starting from the top and going clockwise: Leonius Decimi Regulus, Juno Vert, Prism Skylark, Zabar Aga, Calen Shrike, Chiu Fei Hung, Nathan Eau, Coconut Cream, Alban Inverno, Malina Nahualli, Kirkka Scarlet, and Janus Rogo). On the RPG logo the center has also been revamped with “RWBY RPG” appearing on Ruby's symbol while on the main side logo, the center has been replaced with a shaded white ball that simply has “RWBY” and Adam’s symbol has been replaced by Ruby's.

Much more important than a change in our logo, though, is the main event and reason I'm announcing this at the start of the month and not on our anniversary. The weekly writing prompt is going to be delayed this month, as the entire month is going to be dedicated to a single prompt, more info can be found at the link to the writing prompt link at the end of this post.

As I said before, this anniversary isn't just about our site, it's about RWBY, the community it's nurtured, and the cast and crew that makes it happen. It's about paying tribute to Monty and thanking Miles, Kerry, and the rest of the staff.

For this purpose, an invite has been spread to r/RWBY, r/RWBYOC, r/RWBYPrompts, r/RoosterTeeth, and the RWBY section of the RoosterTeeth Forums. You won't need an approved character to enter this time.

After Monty's passing, Matt Hullum wrote

“In lieu of flowers or gifts, we ask that you simply do something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can. If you know Monty like we do, then you know he would certainly be doing that if he were able to.”

I feel confident in saying that in the years since, we have all been doing creative work and that it's time we pay tribute and thank the staff for continuing Monty's work. We're allowing all who join to participate and at the end of the month, each and every prompt marked “Opt-in” will be compiled into a binder of stories put together by myself with a letter of thanks and a signature from each person who wrote in to be sent to RoosterTeeth. We had tried to get permission to compile the stories into a properly made and bound book by a print-on-demand service but despite multiple attempts at reaching out to roosterteeth’s fan project email we never got a response. While all those who opt-in will be featured, we will have a vote decide on the best response, which will be at the very front of the binder, second only to a foreword and thank you letter. How the voting will be done has not yet been decided on yet but we're open to fair suggestions.

“The goal isn't to live forever; it’s to make something that does.” - Monty Oum

The prompt this week is a general prompt, just write about what comes to mind.

200+ word count (Just don't write a novel.)

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while no being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

There will be a winner this week, the prompt is open until midnight on Friday, going into Saturday, EST. After that, voting will be open for the entirety of Saturday and the winner will choose the prompt for the next week and their submission will be loved to a winners thread.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.